


Teasing Control

by LadyDrace



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Derek Hale, Control, Established Relationship, M/M, POV Derek Hale, Riding, Teasing, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski, Wolfed Out Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 17:14:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8809240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDrace/pseuds/LadyDrace
Summary: Stiles is a werewolf now, and he's good at it. So good, in fact, that he's actually gotten pretty cocky about it. Derek is gonna fix that. The sexy way.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rieraclaelin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rieraclaelin/gifts).



> This was written for [rieraclaelin](http://rieraclaelin.tumblr.com/). Thank you!
> 
> Unbetaed, but thoroughly edited.

”Do whatever you want to me. I won't lose control,” Stiles purrs, pressing into Derek with a boldness no alpha would tolerate from a new beta. Not even an alpha who's struggled as much with the role as Derek. Maybe especially not Derek. Stiles knows very well what he's doing. His eyes are boring into Derek's, his back is straight, he's meeting Derek as an equal, and he's expecting Derek to take the bait. He always has in the past, because Stiles knows just where to push, and frankly it's _fun_. Which is why Stiles does it, nine times out of ten. And also because lately, more often than not, the disciplining turns into sex.

 

It's a new development, but not as new as the beta status which was the lesser of two evils in the end, when Stiles inevitably got himself irreparably hurt.

 

But new or not, Stiles decided to deal with the unexpected wolfitude – his own words – by working as hard as possible to get amazing at it. And he's done extremely well learning control. So well, in fact, that his head would probably explode if Derek admitted how proud and impressed he is, so Derek doesn't. Not that Stiles' head isn't big enough as it is, especially considering his cocky challenge. In truth, Derek thinks that maybe Stiles actually needs to be taken down a notch.

 

”Is that a challenge?” Derek asks, and it makes Stiles pause.

 

He was already braced for the manhandling, he clearly wasn't expecting Derek to not immediately show him his place. But he grins, smug and cocky, a delighted glint in his eye. ”Damn right it is.”

 

”Challenge accepted,” Derek growls, and Stiles definitely braces himself this time, obviously prepared for Derek to slam him into a wall or something, and Derek almost laughs from how Stiles almost stumbles when Derek instead pulls him in by the neck, slow and gentle, and places the softest kiss on his lips. Stiles blinks from surprise, and Derek presses his advantage, leaving another butterfly kiss on his lips, then another, and then moving down his neck. Stiles' neck is sensitive, and his eyes slide shut as Derek makes his way lower to press a soft bite into the joint between neck and shoulder.

 

Stiles shudders and lets Derek move them slowly towards the bed, flopping down on it with a small _oomph_ when they get there, and grinning at Derek.

 

”Get naked,” Derek says, and he half expects Stiles to argue just for the hell of it, but apparently he's too eager, and gets started as soon as Derek whips his own shirt off. They finish almost at the same time, and Stiles pulls Derek close with open arms when he crawls onto the bed, settling where he usually does, locked happily between Stiles' legs.

 

”Not much of a challenge so far,” Stiles taunts, but they have all night, and Derek hasn't even started yet.

 

”If you say so,” Derek whispers, and sucks gently on Stiles' earlobe, tonguing and nibbling it before going to work on Stiles' neck again.

 

It's not like they haven't had slow and loving sex before, it's just the exception more than the norm. Stiles can't help being a little shit and goading Derek until he's a highly strung ball of sheer alpha instinct, and considering how much Stiles loves being tossed around and fucked into the goddamn mattress it's kind of a win/win situation. But Derek's instincts are perfectly satisfied with this approach too, and he's confident he'll win. So he's happy taking it slow.

 

He takes his time through a thorough round trip of Stiles neck and chest, sucking each nipple until it's plump and flushed, and Stiles is panting. He's still looking at Derek with brown, human eyes, though, so Derek moves further down. Licking at his navel, his treasure trail, the crease between leg and groin, and then down to drag his teeth across the quivering thigh muscle. Stiles' legs open wider, unconsciously inviting Derek in, but Derek isn't accepting that invitation today. He's got other plans. So he stays where he is, licking and biting gently at the soft skin of the inner thigh, moving on to the other when Stiles twitches and moans.

 

”Fucker,” Stiles groans, his cock full and flushed and neglected against his stomach.

 

Derek grins against Stiles' knee, and pointedly does not move on until he's been everywhere on both thighs, and Stiles is shuddering out each breath. Derek gets his attention, though, when he gently pushes Stiles's legs together and straddles them, just far enough down that their cocks won't touch.

 

”Give me your hands.”

 

Stiles holds out his hands in surprised obedience, and Derek takes them, guiding them to his thighs and up to take hold of his hips. Taking the hint, Stiles lets his palms drag up and down for a while, just feeling Derek's muscles under the skin. It's a deliberate move on Derek's part, because he knows how sensitive Stiles' hands are, and he flexes under them.

 

Not that Stiles doesn't have a lot more muscle now that he's bolstered by his wolf, but he's still more slender than Derek, especially considering that Derek is an alpha, which makes the manhandling Stiles loves so much easy as pie. But Derek is not going there tonight. He's got a plan, and he's sticking to it. So once Stiles' eyes have gone glassy from the pleasant sensory input his hands give him, Derek moves on to the next step. He takes hold of Stiles' hands again, and guides them to his ass instead.

 

”Open me up,” he murmurs, and it's almost over just like that. There's a brief glint in Stiles' eyes, the tiniest flash of beta gold, and Derek grins, watching how Stiles clenches his jaw, wrestling his control back. Derek grins and reaches for the lube, squirting some into Stiles' hand when he doesn't seem to be able to reach for it.

 

They haven't done it like this before, but not because Derek hasn't wanted to. Derek suspects it's a combination of both of them being equally horrible at taking their time, as well as the newness of what they're doing. But this time Derek is on a mission. He's focused on that one glorious goal, and he's not about to get distracted.

 

But considering how Stiles' hands shake and how awed he looks, Derek can't help but wonder if maybe they should have done this a lot sooner. Obviously Stiles had assumed this was a dynamic not allowed for an alpha/beta pair, which just goes to show he still doesn't know everything.

 

He breaches Derek so very slowly and gently that Derek has to take the lead again, pushing Stiles fingers in deeper with a firm grip on his wrist.

 

”I won't break.”

 

Stiles grimaces. ”No, but you can still hurt,” he says, barely even parting his lips.

 

Derek has to swallow at that, because it's still baffling to him that Stiles cares so much about his wellbeing. But he's working on accepting that, and the fact that he doesn't immediately dismiss the notion is something he can count as a victory. Besides, Stiles doesn't need to be so cautious about this, specifically.

 

”Not from this. I've had a lot of practice.”

 

It's gratifying how Stiles' cock jumps from the implication, but his eyes remain brown. Not for long, though, if Derek has his way, and he coaxes Stiles to add another finger.

 

It's almost disturbingly quiet in the bedroom. There are no filthy words, no lewd rambling. Not one moan or even a sigh from Stiles, his eyes locked on Derek's face, and his fingers sliding slowly in and out. There's plenty to hear for wolf ears, but it's still strange to not have Stiles filling the room with words, and Derek decides that once he's won this game he's gonna make Stiles ramble and beg more than ever before to make up for it.

 

”Enough,” Derek says, and he grins smugly when Stiles visibly clenches his jaw while he pulls his fingers out. Derek guides the still slick fingers to Stiles' cock and helps him spread the extra lube acround, granting him just a couple of strokes before stealing Stiles' hands away again, placing them on his hips.

 

”Breathe,” Derek says, just to be a dick, but it might actually be good advice, because Stiles literally stops breathing when Derek takes hold of his cock and gets in position before sliding onto it, easy as anything. Just like riding a bike. Except no bike Derek's ridden has ever been shaking this hard, or for that matter fit him so perfectly. It's almost enough to knock Derek off kilter, because he wasn't expecting it. He likes bottoming, sure, but it's always been more of a side-dish than a full meal to him. However, he feels like he might change his position on that in the future, because he feels so perfectly full and pleasantly stretched, and his cock blurts out several drops of pre-come before he remembers he's on a mission.

 

He raises himself up, slow and gentle, just a little bit before sinking down again, and Stiles bites his lip so hard it's bound to hurt. Derek smirks and pulls up just a little more on the next pass. He keeps it slow, though, so very slow, and for every thrust Stiles' fingers dig into Derek's hipbones a little deeper. Derek can almost _taste_ victory.

 

”It's okay. You can let go,” he murmurs, and Stiles shakes his head minutely, lips pressed tightly shut. But his nails feel sharp, and Derek pulls up so far Stiles' cock almost slips out of him before sliding back down, pressing hard against his hips once he's seated, taking Stiles in as deep as he can. He lets out a groan of satisfaction, because _fuck_ that's good, so much better than he's used to, and Stiles reacts to the noise with a punched out exhale. Derek isn't usually loud in bed, but he dares anyone to stay quiet when something feels this satisfying, and it's only an encouragement that Stiles seems to like it.

 

”Fuck,” Derek moans, letting himself feel everything, since it seems to be serving his purpose anyway. ” _Fuck_ , that feels good.”

 

Stiles whimpers, and his hands curl into fists.

 

”God, I love your cock,” Derek adds, ignoring for a moment how dirty talk always makes him feel a little cheesy, because Stiles' eyes are definitely flickering gold now.

 

Elated from how close he is to winning, Derek takes hold of his own cock, stroking it steady like a metronome as he ups the pace of his hips a little bit. Just a little, because they're not there yet. Derek doesn't just wanna win. He wants to _crush_ Stiles.

 

”Mmmm, too bad it's gotta be like this,” he sighs, stroking himself faster. ”Maybe if you weren't so cocky you could be fucking me through the floor right now.”

 

The sound Stiles makes is choked off, and he scrunches his eyes shut. But it's too late, Derek has already seen the proof, and he's gonna bring this home, now.

 

”Stiles,” he calls softly, waiting for the gold to appear again, and he flashes his own eyes red in response. ”Don't you wanna give your alpha a good _fuck?_ ”

 

Those are the magic words, and it's amazing how Stiles' face explodes with hair and fangs, and Derek would spend more time feeling smug about his win if Stiles wasn't already rolling them over with clawed hands, and shoving Derek's legs up and apart.

 

”I win,” Derek declares, but Stiles is obviously beyond caring, and pushes in so deep and good that all Derek can do is cling to the headboard and moan. ”Yes, _fuck_.”

 

Stiles lets out a snarl and sets a brutal pace, and it feels like mere seconds before Derek has to reach down and jerk himself off, or he'll go nuts from how amazing it feels. ”Don't stop, fuck, don't stop,” he begs, and that definitely wasn't part of the plan, but it's also not important, because _he won_.

 

He comes with a cry, and Stiles' nostrils flare from the smell as Derek milks out every last drop before flopping back down, smug and spent. But he still has one last thing to try. He catches Stiles' gaze, and holds it for a few more desperate thrusts before deliberately flashing his eyes at him and then shifting fully. ”Fill me,” he says around his fangs, and Stiles roars as he seizes up and comes, shoulders shaking from tension as he pushes in as deep as he can go. Derek loves it, _damn_ he loves it so much.

 

”We're doing this again,” he says, when Stiles is finally done, and collapses in him in a wheezing lump.

 

”Christ, Derek, are you trying to kill me?” he pants into Derek's chest.

 

Derek shrugs. ”You started it. And I won.”

 

”Ugh. Yeah, you won. Smartass.” He raises his head finally, sweaty and still wolfed out, and Derek smiles at him.

 

”You love my ass.”

 

”Are you kidding me right now, I think I saw _Nirvana_ for a second there.”

 

Derek grins with all his fangs and pulls Stiles up for an awkward toothy kiss.

 

”Win.”

 

End.

 


End file.
